At that time Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. Just as Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”
Mark 1:9-11 (NIV)
Years ago I was asked to give a message among a weekly gathering of Jesus’ followers. The text above was part of the message that I shared that morning. The observation that I made in that message was the same thing that struck me again this morning as I read the chapter. It’s so subtle that I missed it for many years of my spiritual journey.
The observation is simply this: the Father’s love and pleasure we’re given to Jesus and we’re just ten verses into the story. Jesus’ ministry hadn’t started. He hadn’t preached a sermon. He hadn’t healed anyone, performed miracles, or cast out a demon. So God’s love was there, it had already been there, and it was always going to be there. The Father’s love for the Son was not dependant on His dutiful and obedient carrying out of, and completion, of the mission. Therefore, in the same way, God’s love for me is not dependent on my good works, purity, morality, church attendance, or my upstanding life. It’s always been there.
After my message, I was immediately confronted by an angry person. There was no preamble to the conversation. They immediately dove into an argument to let me know that Jesus was thirty years old when He was baptized, so He obviously had “done stuff” and proven Himself to the Father. In other words, Jesus had to have earned the Father’s love and pleasure.
Along my spiritual journey, I came to realize that quid pro quo theology was so deeply ingrained in me that I was blind to it for many years. While I cognitively agreed with the doctrinal statement that salvation was “by grace through faith,” I functionally lived, acted, and treated others as if God’s love was dependant on my obedience and theirs. I discovered that I was treating it like a transactional relationship, and I liked it that way. If God’s love was earned by my being a “good person” then there was a measuring stick I had understood since I was a child; A measuring stick I could use to decide whether others were worthy of my love. God’s love and grace being transactional made things so simple for me on a human level. Be good: Heaven and acceptance. Be bad: Hell and rejection. It was a religious version of the Santa Claus principle my parents used to get me to behave when I was a child that I could now apply on an adult level.
In His parable of the Prodigal Son, Jesus told the story of a younger rebellious brother who does all of the wrong and sinful things. When he returns home the poor, penniless, sinful, broken child is greeted by his father who runs to embrace him and forgive him. The father throws a huge homecoming party. The older brother, who has been dutiful and obedient is indignant. The point Jesus was making is this: the father loved both of his sons. His love belonged to both of them, had always been there from the beginning, and had remained with both even when the younger one was lost and the elder was obedient.
In the quiet this morning I find myself reflecting on my own life journey. You can look back at my life and find me playing both roles in my own life’s production of the Prodigal Son. I have been the wasteful, wandering, rebellious child squandering what I’d been graciously given. I have also spent years being the indignant, dutiful son projecting my miserly, transactional world-view onto a loving and gracious Father.
I’m older now. The reality for any actor is that as you get older you find yourself cast in very different roles than when you were young. C’est la vie. It strikes me this morning that I’d like to think I’m ready to play the role of the father with everyone in my circles of influence, extending grace and love freely, regardless of a person’s actions.
And so, I find myself coming back to that argumentative, angry “older brother” who conversationally accosted me after my message those years ago. I get where that person was coming from. I pray that they experience the fullness of God’s love that has always belonged to them and has nothing to do with their goodness.
Have a great week, my friend.
6 thoughts on “Non-Transactional Love”
What’s striking to me about the prodigal son story is the first thing the father says in the entire story. “Son, you have always been with me… ” Jesus just wants us to be with him.
Great observation, Kyle. That’s the point. There’s not a “distant country” far enough away that you are separated from the Father. Ps 139:7-12
Tom, I thoroughly enjoyed reading this post and it is so relatable. Thank you for your message and your courage to write it. Looking forward to reading more. 💙🙏🏻
You’re welcome, Charlotte! Thanks for your own post. I loved the A.A. Milne passage and read it to Wendy last night as we were going to bed. Such wisdom understood by children to which we too often become blind as adults. Stay safe and healthy!
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They were surprised at his teaching—so forthright, so confident—not quibbling and quoting like the religion scholars.
I’ve been in sales my whole adult life. I’ve learned a lot about communication over that time, including the most efficient way to share a message while being understandable and quick. Those experiences have framed how patient or impatient I am when others are telling stories today. My wife and I have a running joke (well she gets annoyed, I view it as a joke…most of the time) about her using too many words. Many men could identify with this, but my sales experiences have made me even less patient when being a listener. Forthright, confident messaging, when delivered truthfully, can gain a salesperson serious cred when asking for additional time, another appt, etc. Religious scholars quibbling and quoting and politicians carrying on about meaningless things do nothing but annoy me and push me farther away as a listener.
The other part of this chapter that struck me was the healing that Jesus did. Can you imagine if you and I could witness Jesus healing people in our midst today? What might that do to our faith, our level of belief? The stories in the Message about Jesus’ miracles always give me pause. What a mighty God we serve!